Gemotions

The silence in the apartment was deafening. Elena moved from room to room, touching things, as if to prove they still existed. The scent of her lover's cologne, usually comforting, now seemed to mock her. The phone calls, the late nights, the averted glances. She'd known, deep down.

She sat on the sofa, her back ramrod straight. She stared at the closed bedroom door, visualizing him inside. Her hands trembled as she reached for the remote, switching on the television, the noise a temporary buffer against the storm inside.

She changed the channel again and again, unable to focus on anything.